


The Shire Princess

by Hyperactivefangirl29



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Asshole Thranduil, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Dwobbit Bilbo Baggins, F/M, Female Bilbo, Fili and Kili can keep a secret like no one else, M/M, Not even Nori knows, Thorin has no clue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperactivefangirl29/pseuds/Hyperactivefangirl29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin noticed, her just didn't realize. Dis noticed, she asked. Then the war happened and a hobbit lady was left with  growing belly, a pouch of beads and a broken promise.</p><p>Frerin found his work in the rolling hills of the Shire. He found his heart in a sprite of a woman named Belladonna. His family never knew. Except his sister, who always knew. </p><p>77 years later, the company land, with some 'gentle' pushing from a wizard, on the doorstep of Freya Baggins who isn't all she appears to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

Frerin lay in his arms, among the dead and dying, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. "Thorin. Dis, find Bella. Shire." He said weakly, his life-blood draining from the wound in his chest. "Deliver." Thorin's brother pressed a small, bloodied pouch into his hand. "She. Knows. Tell her. 'm sorry. Can't return." Frerin took a shallow breath. "Keep Dis. Out trouble. Take care brother." The prince managed an almost cheerful smile, his eyes losing life. "See you. Next time. Thorin, King." The last breath faded from Frerin's body. Dwalin found him several hours later, his brother's body in his arms, a small weighted bag in his hand. 

It took Dis several weeks to pick up enough of her heart to go see Frerin's wife, now widow. She and her young son, Fili where still dressed in mourning as they set out, the pouch of beads heavy in the pocket of the princess' cloak. She and Fili shared a pony, although with Dis' steadily growing belly it became increasingly harder for her five year old to fit on the pony in front of her. So it was a relief when they reached the cheerful yellow door set in the side of a small hill in Tuckburrow. Flowers bloomed happily along the side of the garden path as the two youngest of the line of Durin pulled to a stop at the garden gate. 

The bright door swung open, revealing a small hobbit woman with honey curls, brown eyes and skin the color of Milk Tea. The Woman look up, brown meeting blue, dainty hands resting protectively on her swollen belly. "Dis, Fili." Belladonna Took smiled gently, stepping aside to let the pair in. "You're just in time for second breakfast, if your interested." She said, leading her Sister-in-law and nephew down the hall into the dining room where a small spread of breakfast food lay waiting. Fili looked up at his mother and Aunt, hoping to be allowed to eat. With twin smiles of permission, Fili retrieved a plate from the dresser and set about making a dent in the hobbit's food.

"Bella." Dis said gently, guiding the hobbit into the adjoining sitting room and setting her in an armchair. "I'm so sorry." The dwarrowdam's eyes filled with tears, Bella looked down. "Frerin's not coming home, is he?" She asked, although it wasn't really a question. Small droplets of water rolled down her freckled cheeks and Dis, mindful of the two unborn children between the, pulled her into a hug, her own tears falling. 

* * *

 

Dis refused to leave the hobbit alone in the empty home, despite Belladonna's urging. She couldn't travel in her condition anyway she argued, so stayed until both children were born and a long while after. Dis knew how it felt to lose not only a husband, but also the father of an unborn child. Dis, Princess-under-the-mountain got it, she understood like no other could. 

Dis, Fili and Kili (who'd been born mere months after Freya) stayed for three years. Dis helped with the healing of Bella's heart, helped with the long hours of labor and the sleepless nights of a newborn. Fili helped too: he helped his baby cousin walk for the first time; gave her her first beaded braid; defended her bravely against Lobelia who, at the same age as Fili, commented haughtily at the distinct lack of hair on Freya's feet, at her slightly broader structure. 

Kili and Freya learnt how to talk together, how to sit, to walk, to use the bathroom with out help. They grew like twins would, as close as possible. If one had a nightmare, the other would be the first at their side. In short, together, along with Fili, they were inseparable. They weren't cousins, they were siblings.

And then, it came for time for the dwarves to leave, but not for good mind you. Among the tears, the hugs and the kisses; there where promises of visits, to the blue mountains and the Shire. Promises made and promises kept until the death of one Belladonna Took, wife and widower of Frerin; Son of Thrain, son of Thror, Prince under the mountain; mother of Freya Took, tweenage dwobbit; a great adventuress and slayer of evils. Death brought on by a long winter, a frozen river and a pack of warg riding orcs. 

* * *

 

Freya looked on as the pale coffin was lowered into the ground. She remembered their trips, all of them. To Rivendell, Lorien, Ered Luin, Dunland, Rohan, Gondor. She remembered all the lessons her mother had taught her: how to walk, silent as the wind; how to go unseen; how to barter with men, dwarves and elves; how to adventure and most importantly (for hobbits) how to cook and be polite. Her mother's lessons brought on her Aunt's lessons, of beads, braids, blacksmithing, fighting. Why hadn't her Aunt come? She'd promised, to be there in their time of need. That time had come, had gone, she hadn't been there. 

It never occurred to Freya, as she turned away from her mother's grave, her boots crunching in the snow, that her Aunt hadn't come because she hadn't known. No letter had been sent, no call for aid. It was nearly always winter in Ered Luin and the dwarves hadn't noticed the cold. That night, when Freya removed the beads made by her Aunt, she never put them back in when morning came. So all letters to Aunt Dis stopped, no news of Belladonna's death, no news of anything at all. It was years before Freya saw her cousin's again, and met her Uncle Throin for the first time. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Fili and Kili knew exactly where they were going. They'd been down the winding paths of the Shire blindfolded once, on a dare. But that was a long time ago, and they still remembered the way. Despite the darkness, they knew exactly which hill-house they were going to; knew which flowers were in the flower beds; knew the exact shade of bright, sunny yellow the door was. With heavy steps and nostalgic hearts, the brothers made their way up the gravel path. The heavy steel knocker was still on the door, one of the first things Fili and Kili had made together; a simple, slightly wonky and lumpy flower chain. The chain fell and a call of 'coming' echoed from inside. Several moments passed before the door swung soundlessly open. 

A few blond curls had tumbled from her bun that hid her beads; there was a long scar at her throat; an almost non-existent shadow of stubble decorated her jaw; her cheeks were rosy and flustered; her apron decorated in food mess and she was taller and broader, but it was still her. Freya. Several moments of stunned silence passed; crickets chirped in the back ground; Fili caught the door was it swung swiftly closed. "Freya." Fili said, his voice cracking. He remembered the letter, clearly as if he'd just read it though it was twenty years ago. The letter had come by Shire Sparrow, short and to the point, with no emotion. The letter baring the worst news Fili and Kili had ever received, the news of the brutal, bloody death of Aunt Bella and Freya.

"Go away." Freya's voice was shaky as she tried to push Fili's foot out the way for the door with her bare toes. 

"Freya, please. Let us in." Kili pleaded as heavy boots sounded in the hall of Freya's home.

"Everything alright lass?" Dwalin's gruff voice surprised the brothers, Freya scrambled away from the door and the brothers fell inside. 

"Perfect." Freya's smile was false as she flounced down the hall, refusing to look back at her cousins.

 

Freya lent against her kitchen counter, breathing rugged, tears brimming in her eyes. Her hands raked through her nest of a bun. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window and ran her palm over the stubs of stubble growing of her chin. "Lass?" Silver haired Balin stood awkwardly in the door. "You alright? The boys want to talk to you." 

"I'm fine, thank you Balin." Freya replied, straightening her apron and moving to check the stew bubbling on the stove. 

"I'll tell the boys you don't want to talk." Balin said, turning to leave. He paused for a moment and turned back. "If I may, Miss Took. What did they do? To make you dislike them so much."

"They left my mother and I to fend for ourselves in the Fell Winter, they made a promise they didn't keep." Freya said, her back to the dwarf. She head the retreating thud of boots and let out a sigh before piling plates and carrying them out into the hall, where the dwarves had set up her dinning table with mismatched chairs.

 

It had been a long time since Freya had had such a loud and messy group in her home, the Took cousins four years ago. And even they didn't throw food as badly as dwarves did. It reminded her of years and years ago, the last time she'd see Fili and Kili, she'd ended up with bread crumbs under her fingernails and pork stew in her hair. Her dwarven nature over flowed when an egg, thrown by Bofur, hit her square in the cheek. The whole room froze. Freya stood, a roll soaked in soup in her hand and lobbed it. The roll smacked the rude dwarf in the nose and the table cheered. The food fight was more ferocious than before, the noise growing every minute. The noise and the joy made Freya forget, for a while, the pain she carried and the resentment she felt, especially when she and Kili ganged up of Fili, as they had done as children. She even joined in merrily during the customary song, which was about what she hated.

 

Bomber; who was in charge of wiping the plates clean of food; couldn't help but notice the way his brother's eyes followed their hostess as she danced lightly in wheeling circles, her voice sweetening the dwarven base and baritone. Her tipsy giggles brought bright roses to her cheeks as she taught Ori a dance of spins and swings. Bofur's pipe playing sped up to match the fearsome speed of the dance, Freya grinned at him and offered her hand to him as Kili drew Ori away from her in a series of well-practiced steps. Bomber took Bofur's pipe from him, earning him a startled look and laughed when he stumbled when Freya pulled him to his feet. Bofur's grin widened as he quickly picked up the steps of the hobbit dance. 

* * *

When the little round door with the glowing symbol carved into it opened, Thorin reeled. Frerin. No, the hair and eyes were the same color, but it was defiantly a female who stood in the doorway. With blond curls escaping from her tightly wound bun, emerald green eyes looking up at him and slightly broader in structure that the hobbit women he'd met in Bree. In the flickering light of the hall, Thorin also swore he saw the faint shadow of stubble along her tan skin. A long, thin scar crept it's way from the middle of the girl's neck, down her collar bone and disappearing down her bodice, another rarity for hobbits. Instead of focusing on the halfling, Thorin turned to Gandalf; who stood off to the side. "Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”  The wizard in question smiled placidly and the halfling bristled. 

"Gandalf!" The small woman rounded on the wizard. "What have I told you about scratching marks into freshly painted doors? Not to do it." Gandalf ignored her, infavour of introducing the Female-Frerin lookalike to Thorin. "Freya Took, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” He smiled at the pair, the hobbit huffed and Thorin scrutinized her. 

"So, this is the hobbit. Tell me, Miss Took. Have you done much fighting?"

"I've had my fair share of battles, and my unfair share of losses." She replied primly, lifting her chin.

"Axe or Sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Was the next question her launched at her. 

"That depends, Master Dwarf. Do you want to keep interrogating me? Or would you prefer to eat?" She shot back with a scowl almost identical to the one Dis so often put on when Thorin had found Fili and Kili in trouble. So, Thorin begrudgingly decided to take the offer of a meal. He was led to a long table; a little out of place in an almost empty hall; and a steaming bowl of stew, a plate of buttered bread and a tankard of golden ale was set before him as the dwarrow and their hostess settled in various, mismatched chairs around him. As he ate, his company made quiet small talk around him. Evidently he'd missed the merry-making portion of the evening; which, while saddening, Thorn was glad about; he was far to tiered to belt out a lively song. He was quietly contemplating these thoughts when he noticed his two nephews and the supposed 'burglar' of the company whispering among themselves at the other end of the table; their hostess looked angry and upset at whatever Fili and Kili were saying. Thorin opened his mouth to tell them to stop bothering the woman when Balin finally spoke up. 

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” The aging dwarf looked at him, hope shining in his eyes as the table fell silent in anticipation of Thorin's answer.

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.” Thorin said with a nod, taking a gulp of the surprisingly strong golden liquid in his flagon. Soft cried of joy came from the surrounding dwarrows. "What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin asked, leaning forward on his elbows; earning him a glare from the hobbit. 

"They will not come," Thorin said grimly. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Disappointed mumbles echoed slightly in the long hall.

""You're going on a quest?" The hobbit's voice rose above the mumbles, an exited gleam in her eyes. Thorin nodded and Gandalf reached into his pocket, withdrawing a map and key. "Freya, my dear, a little more light, if you will." The old man said pleasantly. The halfling in question nodded and bounced up, retrieving a long candle from a dresser and swiftly lighting it. The yellow light illuminated the dwarven map spread out on the table. "The lonely mountain," The hobbit frowned. "Erebor, what on this good and green earth would possess you to try and reclaim Erebor!"

"Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time.” Gloin spoke up before Thorin could deliver the hobbit a scathing retort. The others in the company grumbled at the mention of 'portents'. 

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Oin said, bringing exitement to the eyes of the younger dwarrow. 

"You do all know that 'the beast' is Smaug the dragon? Right? because if you do, then you're all completely insane." Thorin glared at the hobbit for her words as Ori sprung to his feet, slingshot clutched in his hand. “I’m not afraid! I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie.” He cried out, several of the others shouted in agreement as Dori pulled his youngest brother back to his seat.  “The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest.” Balin said with a sigh, shout of outrage resounded around the room and Thorin rolled his eyes to the ceiling, this wasn't getting them any closer to getting a burglar.  

“We may be few in number, but we’re fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!” Fili spoke up over the rabble, half standing from his chair, enthusiasm in his voice. Kili nodded and joined in with his brother's rousing speech. “And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” With this, all eyes turned to the pipe smoking wizard who coughed in embarrassment when Dori asked his of the number of dragons he'd killed. Contained carnage broke out among the company, even the hobbit joined in with the yelling.

 “Shazara!" Thorin roared, silencing the rabble. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!”

"You forget that the front gate is sealed with rubble. How are we to get in?" Balin replied, ever the voice of wisdom. 

"With this, my dear Balin." Gandalf said, pipe between his teeth, as he drew from his pocket a heavy iron key. 

"If there's a key," Fili said, his excitement growing. "Then there must be a door." Gesturing to the map with his pipe, Gandalf nodded. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”

"There's another way in!" Kili was practically bouncing in his chair with joy. Gandalf nodded and smiled. “Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middleearth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.” 

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori's high voice was slightly squeaky. 

"I'd imagine so," The hobbit lass said from next to Gandalf, her own pipe positioned in her mouth. "Someone quiet and small, especially around a dragon. I see why you volunteered me for the job Gandalf-"

"You're hardly burglar material," Dwalin interrupted with a frown. "The wilds is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” 

 

Freya glared at the bulky, tattooed dwarf so had, she was surprised he didn't spontaneously combust. "Don't make assumptions about me Master Dwarf. You have know me for all of three hours." She said, her tone icy cold.

"Ca ye' fight lass?" Star-braided Nori asked curiously. Freya rolled her eyes and gestured to the dwarrow to follow her. Intrigued, they did, Fili and Kili giggling behind them.

Collecting the keys and a candle from by the front door, Freya led to procession of thirteen dwarves and a wizard down the long, gently sloping downward hall of her Smial. "Mother had in build next to the cellar, so we could pretend that it was just another storeroom, even for us Took's this kind of this is frowned upon." She explained as they rounded the final corner. The lock clicked sharply and Freya lifter the latch, pushing the door with her shoulder. The vast room was dark and gloomy until she lit the oil trough that ran around the walls. 

 

Iron glittered in the fire light.

 

 

Steel shone threateningly.

 

 

Polished wood and leather handles glistened. 

 

The dwarves gaped. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hobbits swing dance, okay.  
> Also, does anyone know where I can find a English-Hobbitish dictionary or something?  
> Translations.
> 
> Shazara- Silence!  
> Du Bekâr- To arms!


	3. Chapter 3

_'"Adadnamad," Freya's beads made a pleasant clunking sound as she hurried over to her aunt, a thick book clutched in her small hands. "Adadnamad. What does amrâl mean?" The little dwobbit girl asked, the book falling open in her hands as she showed it to the dwarrowdam. The dwarvish runes spelt out the long and beautiful children's Fairy Tale. At sixteen, Freya had just started learning her Dwarvish runes and was nearly 'too old' for such fairy stories but enjoyed them all the same. Dis pulled the girl onto her lap, taking the book gently from her and holding it out so they both could see the pages. "Amrâl mean 'love', m _adtithbirzul. And this word, means courtship." The princess said, pointing to a different set of runes. Freya frowned at the new word. "What's courtship adadnamad?"__

__"Courtship is for when you're much older, after you've come of age-"_ _

__"77!"__

__"That's right madtithbirzul. 77. Courtship is when a girl or boy, who isn't related to you, approaches myself and your amad and tells us that they love you very much and want to spend the rest of their life with you. To show that they love you as much as they say they do, the boy or girl has to craft gifts for you. If you accept these gifts, that means you love them very much back. When this happens the pair of you will spend months exchanging hand-made gifts, meeting each others families and making sure that you are each others one's. If both us, and your court-mate's family agree, then you will marry and spend the rest of your lives together." Dis smiled gently down at her brother-daughter who looked thoughtful as her little head processed all the new information.__

__"Adadnamad. What's a 'One'?"_ _

__"Your 'One'," Dis said with a slight chuckle. "Is the person that Mahal and Yavanna crafted your soul for. Your 'One' will be the person who loves you the most in all the world, who isn't afraid to tell you when your wrong, who you will know and yearn for as soon as you see them. Your 'One' is the only person who you will fall truly in love with and the person who you will want to never be away from. Your 'One', madtithbirzul, is your soulmate."__  

__"Adadnamad. Look." The girl held out her cupped hands, water ran down the sides of her hands, catching the light of the pearls nestled in her hands. Dis examined the stones carefully before grinning at her now, twenty eight year-old niece. "They're perfect." Freya's smile was like the sun as she dried the pearls on her tunic and added them to the small pouch at her side, they clicked against gold and mithril as the pair hurried to the Shire forge. Where they stayed for week, only returning to Bag End for sleep. The Pearls became the main structure of the beads, the gold and mithril creating the runes of love, devotion, joy, protection and Durin.'__

* * *

Freya woke suddenly, there was a cockerel crowing somewhere in the Shire and the pink glow of the rising sun was shining through a crack in her curtains. With a sleepy groan, the dwobbit rolled out of bed, hitting the flood with a soft thud; getting to her feet, she yawned and stretched. Not for the first time, she was glad that her mother hadn't thrown out her father's old clothes as she opened the wardrobe. The clothes of her mother and father hung side by side, remnants of a time long gone; remnants that she could never bring herself to throw away. Freya shook herself mentally, reaching for breaches, tunic, jerkin, and leather armor. 

As she finished packing her bag, her eyes caught the little bags of beads that rested on her night stand. One was velvet, the beads mead by her aunt in the days before The Winter, the other was made of silver and contained the beads she would one day give to her One. At the sight of the silver bag, the dwarf, Bofur, popped into her head, his jaunty hat and funny mustache. Unwillingly Freya smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Shaking herself, she stuffed the pouches into her rucksack and tied the bag, she added her bedroll and blanket and flipped the top, securing the flap. She dropped the bag next to her boots as she entered the hall before heading toward the kitchen to start breakfast. Before long, the dwarrow had started to wake, Oin and Gloin where up first, quickly followed by Bifur and Bombur, the latter had been woken by breakfast. Briefly, Freya wonder where Bofur was then quickly righted her thoughts, she was going on this quest to help reclaim her ancestral homeland,  _not_ to find love and certainly not to spend time with her cousins.  

When Bofur entered the kitchen, the first thing he saw was Bombur shoveling hot breakfast into his mouth. "Good morning." Bofur looked round, their hostess held out a steaming plate piled high with food. "Breakfast?" Bofur grinned and took the plate, joining his brother at the table. As he ate, he couldn't stop his gaze from wondering to the hobbit lass, she looked more dwarvish some how, dressed in men's traveling clothes and with her hair pulled into a tight braid that ran from her temple. The early morning sunlight steaming through the kitchen window shone on her face and at that moment Bofur would have bet his fourteenth of the treasure that the lass had stubble, then Freya moved and the moment was lost. Bombur kicked him under the table and Bofur yelped, Gloin looked up from his own breakfast and gave him a look, Bofur glared at Bombur who'd already returned to his food. "You were starin'." He said around his eggs as the two young princes joined the table. 

"You stared at Arna in the beginnin'." Bofur said darkly, switching to khazadul. Bombur's head jerked up at that.

"Are you sayin' that?" There was hope in his brother's eyes and Bofur sighed, his gaze returning to Freya's form.

"I think so. I don' know." 

"You stare at her enough." Bifur interjected with a grin, Bofur growled. 

Freya busied herself with cooking more breakfast, trying to tune out the conversation behind her, her ears and cheeks burning red. Her heart seemed to speed up, blood roared in her ears. "Freya?" Kili toughed her shoulder, concerned. She slapped his hand away, her face contorting into a scowl.

"Don't touch me." Freya hissed, Kili took a step back in shock.

"Namad,  _please."_ Kili begged, stepping forward, his eyes sorrowful.

"I should go wake the others, enjoy your breakfast Master Dwarf." Freya said, her eyes void of emotion, and ducked away from Kili toward the hall. 

"What'd you  _do?"_ Gloin asked, stacking his plate in the sink. 

"She thinks we abandoned her." Kili said dazedly.

"Did you?"

"Not intentionally." 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symbols used  
> '...'- dream
> 
> Khuzdul words  
> Adadnamad- Aunt/ sister-of-father  
> amrâl- love  
> madtithbirzul- little golden heart  
> amad- mother  
> namad- Sister


End file.
